A Little Act of Giving
by hikomokushi
Summary: Love isn’t about taking it’s about giving. Uryuu finally learns how to give her back the love he always took. Five Ishihime drabbles.


**Title:** A Little Act of Giving  
**Author:** Hiko Mokushi  
**Pairing:** UryuuxOrihime  
**Rating:** PG (by my knowledge of it oO;)  
**Disclaimer:** Tite Kubo  
**Summary:** Love isn't about taking; it's about giving. Uryuu finally learns how to give her back the love he always took. Five Ishihime drabbles.

* * *

**.001**  
_After all these years, I see that I was mistaken about Eve in the beginning; it is better to live outside the Garden with her than inside it without her. – Mark Twain: Adam; __Adam's Diary_

When she comes out from behind Zaraki's back, he's not sure how to feel.

His bandages feel a little tight around his chest, the ones around his hand feel a little too hot, and for a moment, Uryuu's almost positive his mouth had just filled with cotton. The room is suddenly ten degrees hotter. He remembers when he saw her last, crouched over the shinigami from the 11th squad. He didn't know if he'd ever see her again.

"Inoue-san," he whispers, watching her walk towards him.

He distracts himself by pushing up his glasses. His eyes momentarily close. When he opens them again, she's right in front of him. Close enough to touch. "I'm glad you're okay." The young woman smiles and his world shifts.

Because right then, her smile is for no one else but him.

"Oh, Ishida-kun!" She seizes him around his middle so fast he can't even react. Her arms are like fire on his waist. "I was so worried about you! I didn't know if you were safe, o-o-or hurt, or. . ."

When she trails off he knows what she means. The unspoken words linger heavily in the short distance between them.

_. . . or if you were dead._

"I'm alright, Inoue-san," Uyruu whispers, his hands slowly curving around her in an awkward hug. "I was more worried about you. You were safe. That was all that mattered."

Orihime raises her head shyly, almost not meeting his gaze. Her gray eyes are dark and he can't look away. He long to brush the hair from her face, but old-fashioned chivalry and his own fears prevent him from taking any risks. They'd just started a friendship. Ruining it, or placing it in jeopardy was not an option.

Even he could admit he's grown found of her presence. Even though it's more than fondness.

He sucks in the attention she gives him and only him.

_Greedily_.

He's spent so many days with her, he isn't sure he wants to let her go. He certainly doesn't want her leaving his arms.

Despite the stiffness of formality, his arms lay about her back languidly, hands resting lightly against her hips. Her chin presses against his chest awkwardly, but the pressure of her body so is such a welcome experience he's compelled to pull her tighter. Her head fits below his and he wishes she'd just relax against him, but she herself is compelled to look at his face. She stares into his eyes with a guarded expression, her mouth pressed into a fine before she lowers her head.

Her forehead against his chest Is far more comfortable than her chin, but he would have been happy as long as she continued touching him.

"You shouldn't have made Aramaki-kun take me." Orihime's voice is soft, breathing in slow, uneven gulps that cause a shiver to travel up his spine. "I could have helped."

"Inoue-san," he whispers, arms instinctively tightening around her as he feels her body quake.

The sobs that escape her body aren't loud or noisy. She makes barely a sound at all – just a quiet shuddering. If he hadn't been holding her, he doubts he would have even noticed. There are no tears, no angry yelling, just a sadness that strikes him so profoundly he wishes he knew what to say. An only child, a friendless student, the last of a dying legacy. He's never wished he knew how to comfort more than he does now.

Her arms unravel from his waist and hang loosely at her side. Her mouth is hot against his neck when she raises her head. "Am I that weak?" She shakes her head, loose hair tickling his chest and neck. "Am I that useless?"

"Never!" Uryuu's response is swift and final. His hands slip from her back to her shoulders, holding her tightly before him. "Inoue-san, never think that. I just. . ." The young man's words fade and his Quincy courage is reduced to ash when he brings his dark eyes to meet her cinder gaze. "You shouldn't see anything like what happened in that fight."

"I'm not a child, Ishida-kun," she retorts hotly, in a voice that isn't hers. He finds he likes it less than her constant sweetness. "Yoruichi-san trained me. I'm not a weakling."

Uryuu sighs and his hands slide down her side, pulling her closer. She's jasmine and peach in his senses. "I never though you weak."

Her head fits neatly under his chin. But it doesn't stay there very long. Without thinking, she pushes her lips against hips, light and hesitant. Her breath feathers his lips as she pulls back, tries to pull away, embarrassed.

"Ishida-kun, I'm. . . I'm sorry. . ."

His mind refuses to release her. He hands leave her arms.

They seize her face instead.

Uryuu slants his mouth on hers, holding her lightly in place. The palms of her hands lightly kiss his chest. He's thankful the pressure, because she kisses his back. Never kissed a soul, but he knows what to do all the same. When she opens her mouth, his tongue slides against hers and he wonders why he hasn't tried this before.

He plans to do it again.

* * *

**.002**  
_To be in love is merely to be in a state of perceptual anesthesia -- to mistake an ordinary young man for a Greek god or an ordinary young woman for a goddess. – H.L. Mencken_

In the future, she'd joke he's having an affair with her hands.

In truth, Uryuu has never seen anything that intrigued him more.

He finds himself distracted in class, merely content to watch her hands move across her paper. They're pale and delicate. Very rarely are her nails painted, and if they are, it is some pastel blue or pink. Her fingers are long, piano-like she told him (_something Sora said once_), and they nimbly grace the parchment with black ink.

When she catches him staring, she merely wiggles them in front of her face for a moment, staring at them herself.

He figures she's trying to figure out why he's staring and can't seem to understand it.

When they're among friends is the hardest. He longest to reach forward and take them in his own. He longs to feel them because he's never done so willingly before.

He longs to kiss them.

Orihime seems to notice his extra attention. She stays after school, corners him. Advances into his personal space. He can't say that he's totally upset she did.

"Is there something wrong with my hands, Ishida-kun?" The formality of her words astounds him. She seemingly has forgotten about their kiss in the Spirit Society. Her grey eyes are almost filled with worry, and for a moment, he thinks she may cry. "You're constantly staring at them."

He wishes he could forget the feel of her lips as easily as she forgot his.

Uryuu blinked before pushing up his glasses, closing his eyes. "No, Inoue-san," he mutters, attempting to push past her. How could he ever explain that he was attracted to her fingers? As a Quincy – even a powerless one – he has a code to uphold.

Her graceful fingers grab his wrist.

Orihime pulls on his arm, holding his hand close to her side. His fingers twitch and he itches to grab her. "Ishida-kun, answer me!" Her voice is a whisper, a please, and her free hand presses almost angrily against his chest. "Uryuu. . ."

The sound of his name makes his look up.

"You're too beautiful," he whispers, catching the side of her face in his palm.

He leans his forehead against hers, rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone. He expects her to pull away, to slap him, to do something other than just stare at him. "I can't forget." His free hand takes the one she'd pressed to his chest. He laces his rough fingers with hers and brings it to his lips. They're as soft as he thought they would be.

Once again, she takes the first move as she tilts her head and presses her lips fervently to his, eyes closing. Her back finds the wall when he slips his tongue to caress hers. She releases his wrist and her newly freed hand ghosts over his cheek and the curve of his neck. Butterfly touches that make his spine shiver and his tongue even more so against hers.

He tastes peppermint and lime as he nibbles at her lips, his hands slider to her waist. The little sounds she makes nearly enough to make his groan.

The hand that caresses his cheek is softer than he'd imagined.

He forgets they still in the school hallway altogether as he leans in once more for a taste.

She whispers his name before biting his lip.

"Call me Uryuu," he whispers back.

* * *

**.003**  
_Home by three to deafening quiet.  
The porch light's off,  
Guess they forgot it.  
She'd cry herself to sleep,  
But she don't dare._  
"_I Want To Save You" – Something Corporate_

"It's probably different than your place," she'd said the first time he was there, grinning mischievously, almost as though her knowing that his apartment was different from hers was some big secret she was letting him in on. "Your place is so neat and clean—I almost never have time put anything away."

That's true, he thinks, though it doesn't make him like her house anymore. He hated untidiness where most people thought it makes a home feel homey. Orihime's house is not dirty, or uncouth, merely cluttered. There are reasons why Uryuu doesn't frequent her house. She's only been to his once.

Orihime's apartment is far too quiet for his liking, for one. Where she is loud and peppy and practically _genki_, her house is calm, composed and structured. Merely walking into it reminds him that they're two teens – alone – in a house – where only Orihime lives.

Whether that fast pace in his heart is fear or excitement, he doesn't know.

"Why do you continue to live alone, Inoue-san?"

He does not call her Orihime – only muttered it thrice in his life: (_once in the hall; once when introducing her to his father; once when he woke from a nightmare that involved a _body_ not a _soul_ not a _person_ named Inoue Orihime._) She does not seem hurt by his formality, or insulted by his question. Simply pours him more tea and gracefully slides the cup along the table closer to him, her gray eyes bright.

"I haven't ever thought about it really," she finally answers, after taking a sip of her tea. "I lived with Sora here. It's the only home I've ever known."

"Aa."

Her dead ex-Hollow brother.

He vividly remembers Kurosaki telling him about why Orihime hung out with him. All about what happened with her brother becoming a Hollow and attempting to kill her.

Another moment he swears, he should have been there, she _needed_ him to be there.

Kurosaki stealing his glory yet again.

Orihime hasn't invited Kurosaki to her house. Hasn't invited Kuchiki-san. He's here once a week.

She blinks at him, her eyes wide. "Why do you live alone, Ishida-kun?"

She's catches him in his own misfortune. He lamely pushes his glasses up in an attempt to distract from the blush that rises on his pale cheeks at her question. He avoids those types of questions normally simply out of the insinuations that always seem to follow. "I like being independent."

He counters with his own question.

"Why do you keep the porch light on?" It's a question that passes through his mind every once in a while, when he walks over and notices the fact that it's daytime and the light is still on.

She looks awkward and Uryuu pushes his glasses again, a nervous twitch he wishes he could rid himself of. "It's okay, Inoue-san. You don't have to answer."

"I used to keep it on. . . for when Sora came home." Her shoulders slump slightly. "It's out of habit now. And I never know who'll pop up in the middle of the night."

He gawks at that. "People show up in the middle of the night?"

Orihime nods a little more emphatically than she needs to, but it's the little things like it that bring a smile to his face as he watches her. "Yea! Like Tatsuki-chan! She got herself locked out and couldn't get in, and she got in trouble because every time she got locked out she broke the lock and her mother was very angry. So she just comes here." She puts a finger – _his eyes lock on it_ – and thinks for a moment. "Chizuru-chan came too once, but she was weird, and Tatsuki-chan was here too, and she kicked her out."

Uryuu was amazed at how often Orihime _didn't_ notice the fact that one of her friends was a lesbian with an obvious crush on her.

He sips his tea a little too loudly and she notices, growing quiet, almost as though his drinking carries a signature of what she should do. She glances down at her tea cup for a moment, before swiftly glancing back up. "Do. . . do you ever wish that your _didn't_ live alone, Ishida-kun?"

For some reason her question takes him off guard.

He blinks furiously, pushing his glasses even more up onto his nose, even though the metal beam is already pressing rather uncomfortably against his skin. He's never been so strangely _aware_ of the way his heartbeat pounded in his ears, or the way the flush that crossed his cheeks warmed his skin awkwardly.

He never thinks about living with other people except in his fantasies. The few times that he's even allowed himself those have been times after moments like these, when he imagines he could almost have a normal life.

Is this how Kurosaki feels? he wonders often, then refutes the idea. Kurosaki was too cocky to ever think that he'd be living alone the rest of his life.

Dreams like those only come to Uryuu when he imagines a family.

"Can I do something, Ishida-kun?" Her voice is a whisper, and he glances back up from his frozen position to see her only half-kneeling across from him; one foot raises as though to get up. Whether or not it's normal or not, he notices the way her cheeks are flushed slightly and almost smiles to himself.

He reaches out a hand to her, and when she grasps it, he leans across the kotatsu between them, that almost-smile still perched firmly on his face.

She meets him halfway.

* * *

**.004**  
_A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous. – Ingrid Bergman_

"Do you like Kuchiki-san, Ishida-kun?"

Her voice is soft and takes him by surprise. He blinks down at the girl standing before him, hidden in the shadows that cover his doorstep at night. He never before saw the way light could play on her face before. For a few seconds, he completely forgets that he's standing there in nothing but a pair of _painfully_ old pajama pants with clouds on them.

"What?" He stares at her still, his glasses slightly askew from the nervous twitch he'd had when she knocked. "Do you know what time it is, Inoue-san?"

She blinks at him as though he's the crazy one.

He seems to remember the very time of day himself and grabs her wrist, pulling her gently inside as he shuts and locks the door with his free hand. "How did you get here?"

She doesn't answer his other question, just stands there, leaning against the wall next to the door as though she were meant to be there. He doesn't like his mind entertain the possibility that she _was_. "I walked," she replies, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "I'm sorry if I bothered you."

"No, that's not it," he's quick to say, to attempt to explain, but he gets easily distracted by the way she so comfortably stretches like a cat in front of him. "It's just. . . it's nearly 2 A.M.; it wasn't safe for you to walk here by yourself."

She gives him a look.

He sighs. "Would you like me to walk you home, Inoue-san?"

"I don't want to go home yet," she replies matter-of-factly, nearly shoving past him. She marches into his sitting room and takes a place on the far side of the couch. Uryuu follows her somewhat hesitantly, innate quiet nature settling back into place.

Orihime glances sidelong at him before sighing. The way she _wilts_, like the flowers that she picks every day to _lighten up her day_, makes his heart physically ache. "It was too quiet at home. I decided to go for a walk to clear my head. I guess my feet just kind of brought me here."

He barely gives himself the chance to feel proud that she came to _his_ house.

He settles down on the couch next to her, his hands clutch his knees.

"Are you alright, Inoue-san?" he asks; voice no more than a whisper.

"I'm fine, Ishida-kun," she says, waving at his face. Her eyes glimmer for a moment and he wants to hug her until she tells him what's wrong.

He pushes at his glasses, noticing how she stiffens when he says, "You don't look fine."

She spins on the couch after a moment of pausing, her left leg underneath her bottom as she faces him. "Do you like Kuchiki-san, Ishida-kun?" Her tone is serious, but not accusing.

"Why do you keep asking me that?"

Her eyes narrow almost angrily. "Why won't you answer it?"

Uryuu's own narrow.

He forsakes the usual method of explanation and leans forward, capturing her lips instead. She makes a squeaking sound before she relaxes, as though it were second nature. Her arms slide coolly up his neck, one tangling in his hair and the other pressing against his shoulder. He pulls back slightly and rests his forehead against hers, his mouth still millimeters from hers.

"Does it look like I like Kuchiki-san?"

Orihime seems to like his manner of answer questions; she tilts her head the fraction of an inch she needs to let her lips brush lazily up against his.

She leans over, half-lying in his lap as he turns, his back pressing against the arm of the couch, to accommodate her body crowding his. One leg hangs off the couch, lightly touching the floor, and the other leans against the back of the couch, pressed by her side.

A self-conscious blush rising on her cheeks when she unceremoniously lets out a moan. Uryuu, emboldened, merely grins against her. Her teeth nibble at his bottom lip before his mouth opens. She slants her own against his, tongue darting out once before enticing his to follow. He complies almost gleefully, lifting his mouth a moment to spare a breath for lapping at hers.

Her fingers tug at the back of his hair.

His play touch-and-go with her hip bones when her shirt rises up.

Orihime lets out an audible shudder when he tears from her lips to trail open-mouthed kisses along her jaw and down her neckline. She's more than willing to turn her head to the side; give him more room to work with. Her nails drag lightly on his scalp, incredibly pleased with the little noises he makes in the back of his throat. She melts in his hands though, he he finds a spot midway up her neck that makes her scream a little.

One hand lights a fire as it trails down his chest to first his shirt. He can't help but smirk, despite his embarrassment, when she starts moving against him, the pace slow enough he's wondering if she could move any slower.

Uryuu raises his mouth to her one last time, tasting her, enjoying the feel of her skin against his lazily brushing fingers. When he pulls back, he has to take a hand from her waist to push his glasses up as he pants.

She licks her swollen lips, staring at him feverishly.

_I did that_, he wants to say. _Not Kurosaki; me: Ishida Uryuu_.

"I should walk you home," he tries to say, but it comes out all throaty and hoarse he hopes she even understands it.

"I'd rather stay." He wonders if her eyes have ever looked this dark. She slides her hands into her hair and slowly removes the slips, setting them on the table beside the couch. "If you're okay with that."

He answers her question with a slow swirl of thumbs on her waist.

* * *

**.005**  
_A bell is no bell 'til you ring it,  
A song is no song 'til you sing it,  
And love in your heart  
Wasn't put there to stay -  
Love isn't love  
'Til you give it away.  
Oscar Hammerstein, __Sound of Music__, "You Are Sixteen (Reprise)"_

He knows really should be studying; this stupid test could possibly be the death of him.

Not that it would ruin his near-perfect overall score, but just that he doesn't want to face the idea of _not_ being number one in class.

"You know, you really could eat my food."

He glances over at the red-haired girl splayed out before him on the picnic blanket, a strange-shaped muffin held in her hands before her, blocking her face from view. He smiles, closing his eyes as he pushes his glasses up his nose. "I'm studying," he comments, refusing to acknowledge it as a clever ruse to not eat her Banana and Curry muffins.

Orihime sits up and places her muffin back on her place, placing her arms on his upraised knees and leaning heavily against them. "No you're not; you've been staring at me the past ten minutes."

Uryuu smirks the way she likes him to, one side of his mouth quirking up while the other stays perfectly still. "Exactly. I'm _studying_."

The girl rolls her eyes and falls back against the ground, staring up at the tree that hangs low overhead. His back is pressing comfortably against the trunk, her feet next to him, toes wiggling against the rough bark. He could stay like this forever, he surmises; as long as he's able to just look at her.

"Do you think Kurosaki-kun and Kuchiki-san are happy in Soul Society?"

He blinks, knowing she was referencing how Kurosaki Ichigo had finally joined his "love" (_if you can even call it that, they didn't look in love at all_) in the Seiretei. "It's been over a year already, Orihime," he mutters, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I think if they weren't they would have come back by now."

"But what if somebody stopped them. Like Kuchiki-san's Nii-san, or Renji-kun."

He smirks her way again. "Since when has that ever stopped the two of them."

She smiles and folds her arms on her stomach, closing her eyes for a moment before lifting her arms in the air as though reaching for someone. "I just hope they're happy," she murmurs as she lets her arms sway slightly above her. "I think of them from time to time. Wonder how they're doing. Can you have kids in those bodies?"

"I'd figure so."

Her arms drop and she laces her fingers underneath her prominent chest, sitting up on her elbows. "How?"

Sighing, Uryuu put his book down, knowing for sure now that he was going to get distracted by absolutely anything: he's with Orihime. "Well, they call Kuchiki-san's family the 'Kuchiki Clan' and were angry at her brother for marrying somebody who wasn't a noble. I'm guessing they can give birth just like we can."

That breaks a smile on Orihime's face and she throws her head back and laughs.

Uryuu stares at her like she's gone insane.

"I hope Kurosaki-kun likes kids then." She smiles broadly and brushes a hand through her hair, sighing as her laughs suddenly calmed. "Kuchiki-san wanted four of them."

"You spoke about _kids_ with Kuchiki-san?"

Orihime's head bobs slightly and she almost looks sad, her eyes growing slightly misty as she remembered the conversation. "She wanted to know what it was like to kiss somebody. She'd never done it before."

He had to attempt to stifle his giggles as he raised his eyes to glance over her breasts at her head as it turned the opposite direction. "Not even with Abarai-san?"

She shakes her head again, before she began to absently tap his side with her foot, causing him to jump into the air. Uryuu places his palm over his heart as though touching the area where his heart stayed would calm the rapid blood-pressure increase he had just received. He pushes his glasses up as he watches her, his dark eyes slightly narrowed.

"Are you ticklish, Uryuu?" she asks as she slowly rises, her head cocked to the side slightly.

He rapidly reaches to grab his book, hoping to ignore the question.

Orihime's face breaks out once again in that maniacal grin that for some reason looks perfect for her face before she's on her knees, reaching to poke him in the side with a finger. He jerks away from her slightly, attempting to grab the finger, but unable to do so as her hands slip around his own. When she does finally connect with his side, he lets out a barrage of high-pitched snickers that she almost has turning into squeals before he can grab her hands.

"You are."

She says it like some grand secret the whole world would want to know.

Seemingly satisfied, she tears the top off of one of her remaining muffins and pops it into her mouth before resuming her position on her back. She fingers a water bottle and drinks a little before it's taken from her hands.

Uryuu leans over her slightly, one hand on her hip and the other grasping at her hand, lacing his own with hers. She closes his eyes as he kisses her lightly on the nose, and then both eyelids, and then her chin, before her mouth. She moves to open her mouth, but he keeps the same firm pressure, preventing her. Her free hand lifts from her side and slides up his arm, finally into his hair.

When her nails graze his scalp, he lifts his head, a glint in his eyes that was neither from the sun or his glasses. "Revenge, my Hime," he mutters as the hand he'd perched at her waist dances across her bare abdomen.

She tosses her head back and laughs, and he still believes her laughter sounds like bells, using her hand to pull him down for another kiss.

_finis._**  
**

* * *

Whew. That turned out longer than I thought it would. 

Mainly for Alaina. xD Who kept telling me Orihime needs a backbone in fanfiction and that her and Uryuu need to hook up.  
Who am I to deny her that? P

As always constructive criticism welcome - flames will be shot down, and flamers subsequently put in time-out.

- Hiko Mokushi


End file.
